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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23084899">Stay Down, Miller</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Expanse (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crying, M/M, Penis Size, Rough Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:26:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,038</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23084899</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Amos wants to make sure Miller remembers not to fight back.</p><p>Set after Amos and Miller’s fight in s02e01</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amos Burton/Joe Miller</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stay Down, Miller</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>*PLEASE NOTE THE WARNINGS ON THIS FIC*</p><p>This work contains graphic depictions of rape. There’s nothing ambiguous about it and the victim does not enjoy it. If you’re not comfortable with reading that, please don’t read this fic.</p><p>This fic also contains mentions of blood and vomit.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Miller leaned over the sink in the head, blood dripping from his mouth. His jaw hurt. He couldn’t feel any missing teeth, but something was definitely still bleeding, as no matter how much blood he spit into the sink more seemed to rush in and fill his mouth. It ran down the back of his throat and he coughed, which sent a jolt of pain through his neck, almost like there was still a hand squeezing around it. He spit again, a spray of blood spreading across the cold metal sink and joining the puddles of red already dotting the sides and dripping slowly towards the drain. It was starting to look like a lot.</p><p>He leaned in closer to the mirror, opening his mouth wide and looking for the source of the bleeding. He watched as blood pooled in his mouth, but he couldn’t tell where exactly it was coming from. Blood dripped out of his mouth and down his chin. The metallic taste was starting to make him sick. Or maybe it was the blood loss, or the pain, or even the radiation he’d sustained a few days earlier. His head spun, and he swore he saw something appear behind him in the mirror.</p><p>Miller squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and then opened them again. The thing was still behind him. The mirror was small, and his vision was a tad blurry, but he was fairly sure it was a person.</p><p>“Hello?” he called out as loud as he could manage with his throat still aching as it did. Blood dripped from his mouth as he spoke, falling into the sink with a light <i>tic, tic, tic</i>. The figure behind him moved closer.</p><p>“You thought I was done with you?”</p><p>Amos. It was Amos. Two hundred pounds of pure violence was standing behind him. Miller gulped, swallowing a fair bit of blood in the process.</p><p>“You really got lucky, Naomi coming in when she did,” Amos said. He almost sounded like he was holding back a laugh. “You got a chance to catch your breath, at least.”</p><p>The big man moved closer, and Miller felt it more than he saw it. Amos was close enough to touch him now, and Miller almost wondered why he didn’t. He anticipated Amos’s hands on him, beating or strangling or hurting him in some other way. Instead, Amos moved even closer, resting his hand on the sink next to Miller’s hand. He was so close now, their bodies almost touched. Miller could feel the warmth radiating from him like a fusion reactor. He could see Amos’s face in the mirror, his expression flat but his eyes holding something akin to delight.</p><p>Finally, Amos grabbed Miller by his lower jaw, holding just tight enough to make Miller want to cry out in pain. He swiped a thumb over Miller’s lips, raising his eyebrows in approval. Like he was proud that he’d made Miller bleed like this.</p><p>“See, I know what it looks like,” Amos said, his voice smooth. He used his other hand to run his fingers through Miller’s greasy hair, tugging on it occasionally as his eyes met Miller’s in the mirror. “But I don’t actually do this a lot. Usually I got Naomi or the captain behind me to keep me from really making someone suffer.”</p><p>Miller’s eyes widened.</p><p>“Only that door’s locked, and they’ve got better things to do than babysit your miserable ass. And I just don’t think you really understand that when I tell you to stay down, you fucking stay down.”</p><p>“So now you’re mad at me?” Miller hissed, his voice quaking. “Not because I’m upset you killed my friend, but because I didn’t stay down on the floor when you asked me to.”</p><p>“You really don’t know when to stop, do you?” Amos growled, yanking Miller’s hair so his head jerked painfully to the side. “You’re too confident for your own good, you old bastard. Someone really ought to do something about that.”</p><p>Miller had lost all confidence at this point. Amos was towering over him, huge body boxing him in. He couldn’t escape. He was too weak to fight back. He knew he was powerless, but he didn’t argue with Amos. If he stayed down now, maybe whatever happened next would hurt a little less. Maybe he’d be afforded that small sliver of mercy.</p><p>He watched in the mirror as Amos pulled down the zipper of his jumpsuit. The man’s chest was thick with muscle, and it bore a tattoo of a woman’s face that was still half-hidden by the fabric of his jumpsuit. It gave Miller the eerie sensation that someone else was watching, and considering what he knew was about to happen, that just made it a thousand times worse. He didn’t want anyone to see him humiliated like this.</p><p>“You know how this goes, don’t you?” Amos said softly.</p><p>Miller didn’t say a word. He stayed perfectly still, only letting his head tilt back when Amos pulled his hair again.</p><p>“You’re scared. I can see it in your eyes.”</p><p>Miller blinked.</p><p>“Not like it makes a difference. Won’t change what I’m gonna do to you.”</p><p>Miller gripped the edge of the sink tightly. It didn’t do much to settle his shaking hands, but he felt less like falling over. He didn’t know why he wanted to stay standing, but somehow it felt like falling now would make things worse.</p><p>“And if you’re wondering,” Amos said, leaning in to whisper in Miller’s ear, “yeah, you should be scared.”</p><p>Miller felt two fingers slide under the waistband of his pants. They were cold against his skin. Amos tugged on the waistband, not pulling it down yet but still allowing a rush of cold air to hit Miller’s ass. The pants were tight, and the waistband didn’t stretch much. Amos let out an annoyed grumble.</p><p>“You’re not gonna make this easy for me, are you?” he growled, reaching around and undoing the fly with one hand. Slowly, agonisingly slowly, he pulled Miller’s pants down just past his ass. The waistband around his thighs felt constricting. He watched Amos’s face in the mirror, looking for any sort of feeling in his face. All he saw was mild interest, a slight raise of an eyebrow as Amos stared him down. He still had one hand gripping Miller’s hair, threatening to tug on it and deliver a jolt of pain if Miller struggled. So Miller didn’t struggle.</p><p>Amos moved out from behind Miller so most of his body above the knees was visible in the mirror. Miller saw in the reflection as Amos pulled his zipper the rest of the way down. The bulge in his underwear was noticeable, and he wasted no time pulling them down and allowing his cock to hang in the open air. He gave himself a few strokes, the whole time keeping his other hand firmly in Miller’s hair and angling his head towards the mirror, making him watch. His cock was definitely bigger than average. Unquestionably bigger. Terrifyingly bigger. The thickness alone was going to hurt, but Miller had no doubt Amos was going to make him take most if not all of his length. He could already feel the ache inside him.</p><p>Amos rested his hands on top of Miller’s, pressing down on them just enough to be painful. He held his thick arms at Miller’s sides, his body like a cage around him. There was no escape, no way for Miller to slip away and start running. Not that he’d actually consider running, as the combination of his weak bones and the unfamiliar corridors of the Rocinante would allow Amos to catch him easily. Still, the lack of a potential exit terrified him. Amos could do whatever he wanted-he was going to do whatever he wanted-and Miller could do nothing but pray.</p><p>Miller wasn’t a religious man, he never really had been, but in that moment, he prayed. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a single tear fall down his cheek, and he prayed that Amos showed him mercy. Prayed that he could take whatever Amos dished out without ending up on life support afterwards. Prayed he didn’t suffer enough damage to need medical attention, because going to the med bay meant the rest of the crew finding out what happened to him.</p><p>Something warm and fleshy rubbed against his bare ass. Amos made a noise like a satisfied animal, grinding his cock against Miller’s flesh. He wasn’t even inside him yet, and Miller already felt awful. Amos rutted against him, and the force of his massive body pushed Miller up against the sink, the edge digging into his belly. He was thankful for that sink, because if he threw up at least it wouldn’t be all over himself. Amos’s cock was dripping now, and the sensation of damp precome on his ass was sickening.</p><p>“Are you gonna fight me?” Amos murmured.</p><p>Miller shook his head.</p><p>“Are you lying?” Amos asked, digging his nails into Miller’s hands.</p><p>Miller shook his head again.</p><p>“Good boy. Stay down.” Amos ran his hand through Miller’s hair again. It was almost comforting, but it didn’t stop Miller from being afraid. He tried to focus on the hand in his hair and not Amos’s cock moving across his ass, the tip pressing at his hole. He clenched his ass, then realised that would probably make it worse, so he tried to relax. It wasn’t happening.</p><p>“God, you’re tight,” Amos grunted, thrusting against Miller hard enough to smash him against the sink. “I didn’t want to have to finger you open, but you’re really not going to make this easy for me, are you?”</p><p>Before Miller could do anything in reply, he felt two thick fingers press into his ass. There was nothing comfortable about it, and the lack of any lubrication didn’t stop Amos from pushing them all the way in. Miller coughed, the sensation pulsing through his entire body. He could taste bile in his mouth, and as Amos pressed in harder he choked up a mouthful of blood and vomit into the sink. The sensation of those fingers inside him was unlike anything he’d ever felt, any intimacy that could come from such a situation overshadowed by the horror of something <i>wrong</i>. It wasn’t like being fucked, it felt violent and dirty, not dirty in a good way but dirty like he was going to have to use up all the water on the Roci showering once Amos finished with him.</p><p>Then Amos started scissoring his fingers inside Miller, stretching his tight asshole with unrelenting force. This <i>hurt</i>, on top of just being awful and violating, a screaming pain as the muscles stretched and he instinctively fought back. He didn’t want this, he told himself it would be better if he just let it happen but <i>oh, god, he didn’t want this</i> and his body was resisting despite his best efforts. </p><p>“Jesus Christ, Miller. I don’t know if I’ve ever fucked something so goddamn tight before.” He splayed his fingers as wide as he could, and Miller whimpered. It was the first noise he’d made since Amos had begun, and he hated himself for it. He didn’t want to cry.</p><p>“I mean, it’ll feel great for me. And it’ll probably hurt more if you keep resisting like that. So y’know what? Go ahead and keep it up. Keep on telling yourself that if you just squeeze tight enough I’m not gonna be able to stick my cock in you.”</p><p>Amos slid his fingers out, and Miller didn’t even feel relief. He knew what was coming. He breathed heavy and slow, in and out, trying to focus on relaxing himself. Amos did nothing for a good while, just long enough to make Miller think he might be getting some mercy. Then, just as Miller started to calm down, Amos thrust his cock into him and he screamed.</p><p>It was so much. It was too much, it hurt so much and all he wanted was out and he was powerless to make Amos stop. And Amos’s cock just kept getting deeper and deeper, each thrust pushing further into him and each time Miller thinking “this must be it, I have to have all of him inside me now” only for more to come on the next thrust. Miller thought back to what Amos’s cock had looked like in the mirror, desperately trying to figure out how big he was, how much of his cock was inside him.</p><p>“Please,” he gasped, barely getting words out through coughs and tears, “no more.”</p><p>Amos laughed. He <i>laughed</i>. Miller had never even seen the man smile before, and here he was bending Miller over a sink and using him and <i>ruining</i> him and <i>laughing.</i></p><p>“You think you can just ask me nicely and I’ll stop? God, you’re pathetic.”</p><p>Miller felt the brush of Amos’s balls against his ass. The sensation was obscene and violating on its own, but at the very least it was a sign that Amos wasn’t going any deeper. Even so, the length of the cock in his ass was monstrous, its girth stretching him out so deep he worried it was going to rip something. The human body was not meant to accommodate a cock this big, willingly or not, but Amos had no regard for this fact. He pulled out a couple inches before thrusting in again, hard, pushing Miller into the sink and rubbing painfully in his unlubricated asshole.</p><p>The pace and the force of Amos’s thrusts was enough to make Miller wail in pain, but apparently it wasn’t enough for Amos. He took Miller’s hips in his hands, gripping them painfully, and forcefully pushed Miller on and off his cock at a feverish pace. Beneath his own cries, Miller could swear he heard a soft moan of pleasure. Amos nuzzled his face into the back of Miller’s neck, rubbing his forehead over the sensitive ridges on his spine.</p><p>“You’re sick,” Miller cried. “You’re-you’re a sick person. Is this what you need to get off? You need to make someone scream so you can cum?”</p><p>Without missing a beat, Amos grabbed Miller’s head and slammed it into the hard metal countertop. He held it down, keeping his cock relatively still for a few moments as Miller processed the impact and started sobbing even harder.</p><p>“See, when I tell you to stay down,” Amos growled, resuming his thrusts and using them to punctuate every word, “you <i>stay. the fuck. down.</i>”</p><p>Somehow the thrusts were starting to hurt more. Miller was sure Amos had bruised him inside, if that was even possible. He was face-down on the counter now, so when an especially violent thrust hit him and he coughed up another mouthful of vomit it remained there, and Amos practically shoved his face in it.</p><p>He could no longer see Amos’s face in the mirror, but he could hear the big man’s breath heaving above him. He was getting close. It was almost over.</p><p>Amos made a soft grunting noise as he came, filling Miller’s abused ass with seemingly neverending spurts of cum. It seemed to settle deep inside him, a sickening warm spot within his abused flesh, and Miller had to hold back another round of vomit. Amos took a long time letting his limp (but still very much huge) cock slide out of him, and when it did Miller’s ass felt obscenely stretched. He kept his head down on the countertop, too shocked to move. Amos rubbed and squeezed his ass gently with both hands, and Miller was horrified to feel his own cock twitch between his legs.</p><p>“We’re gonna be flying at zero g for the next few days at least,” he said softly. “You’ll be able to get away with not sitting for a while. No one’s going to find out.”</p><p>Miller damn near thanked him.</p><p>“And for the record,” he said, leaning in close to Miller. “I know I’m a sick person. I just can’t help myself.”</p><p>It wasn’t an excuse. It didn’t make anything the man had done to him okay. But Miller was inclined to sympathise.</p><p>“Get yourself cleaned up, okay? Feels better than wallowing in your own filth.”</p><p>Miller nodded. He slumped down onto his knees, and he kept his back to Amos as he heard the door open and shut.</p><p>Everything hurt. Miller was sore in places he didn’t realise it was possible to be sore in. His mouth no longer tasted of blood, the metallic flavour being replaced with the sickly-sweet burn of vomit. He had a bleeding wound on his forehead where it had hit the countertop. Something warm and slick dripped out of his ass, and he hoped it was just cum. He told himself he’d go to the med bay if he started feeling worse. It was a lie.</p><p>He cried, quietly this time, because he didn’t want someone to walk in and see him like this. The fact that they hadn’t knocked on the door when they heard the screams probably meant they didn’t care, but hey, it was a big ship. Maybe they were just all on another deck.</p><p>Miller had thought he’d seen everything when he got off Eros. He’d thought watching hundreds of people being baked alive and devoured by the protomolecule was the worst thing he’d ever experience. He’d thought being melted inside out by radiation poisoning would be the worst he’d ever feel. And they probably were. But in that moment, as he kneeled on the floor of the head, what Amos had done to him was a thousand times worse. He was going to have trouble sleeping that night, and not just because of the pain.</p><p>All he wanted was a hug. He wanted someone to tell him it was okay. But he couldn’t ask for a hug, he couldn’t tell anyone what happened to him, he couldn’t speak to anyone right now without bursting into tears. So he laid on the floor, wallowing in his own filth and shame, crying and hoping the pain would go away, that he’d be able to forget about this.</p><p>He knew he wouldn’t.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you made it through this thank you so much for reading, kudos and comments are appreciated ❤️</p></blockquote></div></div>
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